Victory Lap
by MeiLei
Summary: There are four people, three seats, a winding road - and you're the lucky gal who gets John Egbert's lap.


It's Dave's turn to be the designated driver this time. He'd leaned back in the booth in the dim bar and sipped on an apple juice all night while the rest of you knocked back your alcohol. You suspect he doesn't mind his role much. He appears about twice as cool when surrounded by companions who giggle into their drinks and sing awful karaoke complete with synchronized dance moves that only deteriorate as the night goes on.

You haven't had quite as much to drink as John or Jade, but you can feel the pleasant buzz of intoxication as you all finally make your way out the door. It's late, and the sound of chirping crickets in the dark fields surrounding the bar is a nice change from the raucous crowd that you just left. As a group, you make your way across the parking lot; to your right, John hums a tune that you half-recognize and it spins through your head.

And then there you are, in front of Dave's unspeakably shitty car. But it's not until Jade opens the door that the full weight of the car's awfulness is revealed to you.

"Oh yeah, forgot about that stuff," says Dave with a shrug.

There is a massive pile of junk taking up most of the backseat. There's clothes, crumpled paper, DJ equipment, and so, iso/i much more. You even think you spot a jar containing something animal shaped that you can't quite identify. You intensely regret being dropped off at the bar by your mother for the sake of convenience because there are clearly only three usable seats in this car. Someone is going to have to share.

Jade and John seem to have come to the same realization and give each other a deadly serious look over the tops of their respective glasses. There is a short, drunken struggle for the front seat. You don't even bother, you just lean back against the car and gaze at the stars. They are brilliant tonight, and seem wonderfully close. You just manage to find the constellation Virgo when you hear Jade's triumphant crowing. Guess that settles that.

John, ever a graceful loser, clambers into the backseat and then looks at you and pats his thigh expectantly. You roll your eyes, but dutifully take the only remaining seat in the car: John's lap. You sit down rather stiffly and try to find a comfortable and balanced position that's not... overly familiar, without elbowing him in the eye. He mock winces when you sit down and makes an overdramatic groan of pain.

"Oh no, Rose! How much do you weigh, a million pounds? How am I ever going to survive the trip back to your house?"

"Poor, sweet John!" you say as saccharine as you can, "I don't think you can under my crushing mass. May you be comforted by my heartfelt apology that I should be the cause of your untimely and sorrowful demise."

He laughs and your cheeks tingle.

"Hey! Settle down back there," Dave says from the driver's seat, him and Jade slightly shielded from view by all the miscellaneous crap, "first rule of safe diving is not crushing your friend to death. It comes right before the section about making sure there are not enough seatbelts for everyone in the vehicle." Dave then starts the car, turns up the music, and sets off down the deserted country road that leads to your home.

You roll the window down a little and the breeze eases the slightly claustrophobic atmosphere. The air outside feels cool and fresh, an instrumental beat is humming around your ears, you hear the murmur of Dave and Jade's conversation in the front seat, and John's lap is warm underneath you. You close your eyes and relax back into John's chest until you are flush against him. There, that's much more comfortable.

With your eyes still closed, you drift a little, enjoying all of these pleasant sensations. After awhile you realize that John's been quiet for some time, you wonder if he fell asleep. You feel like slumber might be in your near future too, with the gentle and constant rocking motion of the car that eases you around slightly in John's lap. Dave takes another curve and you shift-

Oh.

You have just discovered that John is not asleep at all. In fact, he is very much the opposite.

You twist around to look at him questioningly. You meet his eyes and he looks in no mood to answer any questions at all and instead appears to wish that the ground would swallow him whole. In the near-darkness of the backseat, you think you can make out a blush.

"Sorry," he says in a strained whisper.

"It's perfectly natural," the words come out of your mouth smoothly and you are rather surprised to realize that you mean them. Maybe it's the lingering buzz of alcohol or the intimate dimness, but the press of his erection against your bottom isn't nearly as strange or embarrassing as you would've thought. You're not upset, and you don't want him to be either.

Still in your precarious turned position, you open your mouth to explain further, when a sharp swerve surprises you and you begin to tip. John catches you around the middle and pulls you in for stability. You are now tighter against his lap than ever. You can see the streetlights reflecting off his glasses and you watch the motion of his throat when he swallows hard.

"That ninety year old just cut me off in an Aerostar. Incredible." Dave sounds more impressed than annoyed.

"Well he is getting the finger when we go by!" Jade says. "Double middle fingers!" She seems quite excited at the prospect.

You are not quite sure why you do what you do next. Curiosity, maybe? Simple sexual arousal? You suspect that the strongest cause may be the warm glow you feel in your chest whenever he smiles at you. Whatever the reason, you once more relax back against his chest, but this time you make a very purposeful and idistinct/i motion with your hips against his lap.

You hear his sharp intake of breath by your ear and you smile (with only the barest hint of evilness). You roll your hips against his again. He lets out a nervous chuckle.

"Haha! Okay, Rose, what are you doing?" he says quietly, lips just inches from the back of your neck.

"Whatever do you mean? I'm simply a victim of these dreadfully winding roads." you say playfully.

"No, you're doing this on purpose. This is a ithing/i." he sounds serious.

For the first time tonight you begin to feel nervous. Have you been reading this situation all wrong? Some Seer you are.

"Is this not alright?" You can already feel yourself tensing back up.

He pauses for a moment. His chest rises and falls against your back.

"Well... you're not just kidding around, or something?"

You twist around to look at his face again. He looks so... open. You smile - gently, this time.

"Don't you know? I am always completely serious."

He smiles back.

You settle back against him and his hands go to your waist. The car takes another curve and you are pushed into John naturally. You take advantage of this and go with the movement, your hips starting to move in slow, deliberate circles. Light at first, but then you press more firmly. You stare out the window as you move, but you are blind to the dark hills that rise like ocean swells next to the road. All of your concentration is focused on John's lap and John's hands. His grip tightens on your sides and pulls you in, trying to get closer. You swivel your hips and-

Lord. That is much better.

He's hitting you in just the right spot. You push down and this time it's you that has stuttery breath and wide eyes. You keep going and suddenly the car seems so much warmer than it did just moments ago. Your pace increases; one hand braces itself on the window and the other clamps over John's. Your skirt has bunched up to your knees and you wish that it didn't exist at all. John's pants can go to hell too.

Wow. You and John are actually full-on grinding in the back of a car while Dave and Jade chatter obliviously just feet away. You thought that you had gotten through your reckless-teenage-lust phase while you were still actually a teenager, but that belief has proved to be more false than the blank slate theory of socialization.

Right now, though, you really couldn't give a damn. Not when John's face is nuzzling the back of your neck and he's breathing hard into your ear. You roll your pelvis into him hard and he responds with a thrust of his hips up against your ass. Your back arches and you push down clumsily, almost painfully; anything to get more friction. John bites your shoulder and you want to tear this car apart.

Jade breaks out into some shrieking laughter in the front seat and both of you freeze. You pray to the spaces between the stars i please please don't let Jade turn around nor Dave either just look out the windshield absolutely nothing of interest back here John jams his erection against my backside everyday same ol' same ol' please please please don't let them pay any mind.../i

You luck out. Jade goes back to her murmured conversation with Dave that you can barely hear over the music.

Maybe you should quit while you still have managed to avoid complete public embarrassment. This thought lasts until John starts moving and then gets tossed out the window into the cool, night air. Absolutely undeterred by that close call, he wraps one of his arms around you like a seatbelt and grinds; his other hand rubs along your sides and over your stomach. You reach back and tangle your fingers into his sweat-damp hair; you pull him forward for a moment to sloppily kiss the side of his mouth before you let him go again.

You both have a rhythm going now. Pushing and pulling, grinding as hard as you can without attracting attention from the front seat. The crease of his jeans and the hardness underneath is so close to getting you in the perfect spot; just a couple thin layers away. It's maddening, and all your energy is devoted to getting icloser/i - so perhaps you can be forgiven for not immediately noticing when John's hand starts to slide up your shirt.

You almost kick the back of Dave's seat in surprise. You are going to get caught. There's no way that this whole escapade does not end with Dave and Jade sporting identical queasy looks and you losing your ability to talk sense into any of these idiots ever again without them laughing hysterically at you. But, at the moment, you find these terms acceptable as long John touches a boob before this car ride is over. John's hand is wide and cool on your stomach, but it doesn't stay there for long. He rubs a thumb over your ribs and you squirm; it throws you off your rhythm and you feel a wave of frustration until John presses a big hand on your breast, over the bra, and gives it a nice squeeze. Despite knowing it was coming, you narrowly avoid kicking out again.

The car passes a lone streetlight at an intersection, and for an instant the scene in the backseat is illuminated by a stark yellow light. You see your skirt hiked up to mid-thigh. You see the reflection of John's flushed face in the window. You see his arm disappearing up your shirt and you can count every one of his knuckles through the fabric. Then the moment is over and you are thrown back into sheltering, hot darkness.

You want to laugh. To moan. To scream into his shoulder in frustration. Anything. Staying quiet is like trying to contain an explosion with your hands. If you could just-

"Looks like this is the end of the road." Dave's voice cuts through your hazy mind like a broken sword. The car begins to slow.

John's hands are off of you in an instant and press palms-down into the seat on either side of him. You frantically try to pull your skirt down to a semi-normal length. The air between you two is suddenly thick with a gross strangeness instead of arousal. You don't look at each other. You are trying to smooth your hair down when the car comes to a stop in the driveway. There. You take a quick look as best you can at your faint reflection in the window. Nothing looks too obviously out of place. Nothing to suggest that you and John were just engaging in some impromptu frottage in Dave's shitty car. You school your face into a neutral expression, open the door, and confidently step out of the car.

You stagger like an idiot immediately. Your thighs feel like jelly and you can't seem to get your legs working right. Dave catches you under the arm to steady you.

"Damn Rose, how much have you had to drink?" he laughs.

Over Dave's shoulder you see John make his exit from the car, much more gracefully than you. You gaze at him while he straightens his shirt; he doesn't look you in the eye. Your heart sinks. Alright, you've reached your humiliation level for tonight. You are going to go straight to your room where you will lay face-down under the covers and you will proceed to have a dreamless sleep before you have to get up tomorrow and figure out exactly how awkward you've made your friendship with John. You set off for the house.

"Wait!"

It's John. You turn around slowly, trying not to hope for anything at all.

"Rose, I, um..." You guess he didn't actually have anything lined up to say when he called you back. You are just about to turn around again when he finally seems to get it together. "I... I don't have enough blankets for tonight! Yes, that's it. I need something to ikeep me warm/i."

He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you can't help but laugh. It's fortunate that Jade is already making a run for the bathroom and Dave is busy trying to get his beat-up door to close right, because it is the least subtle "sexytimes" signal that you've ever seen. You feel affection radiating like a (benign, yellow) sun in your chest.

You arch your own brow at him and smile. "Hmm... I may have a spare quilt on my bed. In my room." You throw him your own sly wink, just to make it ultra obvious. "If you would just follow me."


End file.
